"Ahhh! AHHHH!"
Katerea thrashed in her restraints, wrists and ankles locked tight by [Laojun's Golden Bracelet]. Her screams tore through the darkness, raw and relentless.
Arrayed before her stood Raynare, Mittelt, and Kalawarner—each dressed in black leather and brandishing whips. No mystery here: three fallen angels, each more sadistic than the last, savoring every moment of her torment.
"Still refusing to yield, Princess Katerea? Last heir of the old Leviathan bloodline?" Raynare's pale fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns over Katerea's trembling skin.
"Hah… hah… You'll never break me!"
She glared back, teeth bared in defiance, hatred burning in her eyes.
She'd lost count of the days since her capture. Every waking moment, these devils had pushed her body and mind to the brink. Yet Katerea clung to her pride. She was Leviathan—she would never bend.
"Pity," Raynare purred, but her smile twisted with anticipation. Dark energy pooled at her fingertip, then shot into Katerea's body.
A curse—one of Flauros's specialties. It left no mark, but it set every nerve ablaze, agony radiating straight from the soul.
Sure enough—
"AAAAAAHHHH!"
Her scream was pure anguish, echoing off the walls.
Mittelt and Kalawarner snickered, cold and cruel. Raynare tilted her head back, eyes glazed with pleasure.
She remembered—same room, same chains. Once upon a time, she'd been the one broken here, remade by her own master's hands. Now she was the tormentor, and Katerea's suffering was her intoxication.
God, those screams—delicious, maddening.
At the center of the room, Tenra sat on his throne, locked in a languid tangle of kisses with Mihae and Tosca. When they finally parted, both girls collapsed against him, breathless and spent.
Tenra's gaze flicked to Katerea, still writhing and screaming. He smirked, snapped his fingers. Raynare caught the cue and cut off the curse.
Katerea gasped for air, body limp, her shredded clothes barely clinging to her. She didn't realize how alluring she looked—how every curve, every defiant glare, only fed the temptation in the room.
Old Leviathan blood ran in her veins, and it showed. Tall, sharp-featured, glasses perched on her nose—a classic dominatrix beauty, her brown skin adding an exotic edge. Even Tenra felt a flicker of desire, though it quickly faded.
No—faded wasn't the word. Absorbed.
He glanced down at Yubelluna, kneeling before him, and gave a silent nod. His queen knew exactly what to do.
"Kill me… If you have the guts, just kill me!"
Katerea raised her head, voice ragged, eyes filled with icy hatred.
"So you're begging for death now?" Tenra's smile was all demon. "Impressive resolve, Katerea."
"But I'm afraid you're out of luck. Dead bodies aren't much use to me."
Her heart sank. Even the dignity of death was denied her. Bastard!
"What do you want from me?!"
She spat the words, fury undimmed.
"I've told you already. Submit. Let me use your power."
Tenra's tone was flat, unyielding.
Katerea snorted. "A Phoenix failure who can't even awaken his bloodline wants me to submit? Don't make me laugh!"
Her words were still hanging in the air when Raynare drove a fist into her gut.
"Urgh—!"
Katerea doubled over, retching, pain radiating through her core.
"Careful, woman," Raynare hissed, yanking her hair and whispering poison into her ear. "Mouth off again and you'll regret ever being born."
A chill ran down Katerea's spine. She didn't doubt the threat.
Death didn't scare her—but dying like this? She clamped her jaw shut, swallowing her pride for now.
Raynare released her with a sneer. Tenra, having watched enough, leaned forward.
"Katerea, it's true: I couldn't awaken my bloodline. Everyone called me worthless. But look at me now—the host of the Two Heavenly Dragons, the Phoenix family's living miracle."
"And you? Maybe your blood is noble, but you're chained to the past. You tried to assassinate Serafall at the summit, dreaming of reclaiming Leviathan's throne. Instead, you ended up here—a captive, humiliated at my whim."
"In the end, you're nothing but a tragic failure."
Tenra's words cut deep, each syllable a dagger. Katerea's face drained of color, mind teetering on the edge.
"Shut up! Just shut up!"
She gasped for breath, chest heaving. She knew how foolish her gamble had been—but her hunger for Leviathan's throne had blinded her. She'd seen an opening, tried to strike down Serafall and Sirzechs, convinced that with [Ouroboros] she could escape if things went south.
She'd overestimated herself—and never imagined Tenra, wielding both dragons' power.
One move. Just one, and she'd lost everything.
She hated him. Feared him. But above all—
She was furious.
How could a bloodline failure like him wield such power? She'd sacrificed everything for Leviathan's throne—why did it end like this?
She couldn't accept it. She wouldn't.
"Actually," Tenra said, smiling slyly, "if you want Leviathan's throne that badly, maybe I can help you."
Katerea's head snapped up, disbelief written across her face.
"What did you say?"
"I said, I can help you reclaim Leviathan's throne."
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